Angels Are Watching Over You
by Unknownhacker1
Summary: Hell's children had exploited every opportunity for years to get them here, but what if some of the good guys caught wind of what was going on and decided to help Dean and Sam stop the devil. spoilers for 2/4 episode. Better summary in the first chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! I got this idea after watching some of the older seasons. I'm including season 5 stuff. There is some spoiler "like" info in here from 2/4's episode "The Song Remains the Same"

Better Summary: The demon's in hell planned the apocalypse for years. Exploiting every opportunity to set the Winchesters down this path... but what if on the other side... rogue angels and some hunters from Dean and Sam's past had gotten wind of it all and were going to set things into motion to help the boys prevent it.

_**Let me know what you think... and if anyone knows a good BETA please message me... **_

Thanks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing... if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction... (:

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'Yippie for Team Free Will!' Dean though to himself as he felt the alcohol slid down his throat. He felt that slight burn but he craved it. He wanted that twinge to make him remember that he was alive… to make him remember that he was still… him. He wanted to scream and yell, maybe hit something but instead he sat in the dark in their latest cheap hotel room and drank.

He felt like everything was slipping through his fingers, like no matter how hard he tried to keep it together the plan was going to pieces. Maybe Michael was right and free will was all a sham… but he had to believe that there was some other choice. Some other path then the one that would make him a meat-suit in some holy show down between the dysfunctional duo. Something other than this road… where he'd kill his brother as the grand finale.

He took another drink as he looked at Sam. Asleep… laying in bed dreaming of, hell Dean had no clue what Sam dreamed of and he wasn't sure he wanted to know… but that was life as a Winchester. They were manly and strong, they killed things that made grown men piss themselves, they knew more Latin than most professors, and Dean secretly imagined that he'd been in more Kinko's than anyone else on the planet.

Still… He looked at his brother and he felt a knot grip somewhere near the vicinity of where his heart should have been… if it hadn't been ripped out and spit on a long time ago.

He wanted so badly to be angry. At anyone. At Everyone. At Cas, who was still in the same position he'd passed on in earlier, for; pulling him out of one hell and dropping him in another. At his brother for; turning his back on Jake in Cold Oak, for dying, for letting Ruby mind fuck him into killing Lilith, and for oh yeah… for introducing Sam to the joy of a steaming cup of Demon blood in the morning. At Bobby for: not being able to come up with any thing that might help them. At Michael and Lucifer for being whinny Bitches who were to busy with their Daddy issues to play nice.

Mostly he was angry at himself… for getting off the rack., for letting things go this far, and more than anything for believing for one moment that their was a God and that he cared for what happened down here on Earth… that he cared about him and Sam… that he really gave a fuck about anything.

Another drink… yeah that's what he needed.

Another drink… and he'd forget that he was getting worn to the end of the world like a rented tux to prom.

Another drink… the bottle would start to blur around the edges and he'd forget that his baby brother was the Devil's prom dress.

Another drink… and the pit in his stomach that let him know that no matter what they did things were probably going to get worse and never get better would turn into a land of sunshine and candy canes.

Another drink… yeah… fucking… right.

Dean didn't even bother with the glass this time. Life was too short to waste it on shot glasses when what he really needed was an IV drip right into his blood stream. Maybe if he drank himself to death Michael would finally get the picture.

'Yeah' he thought as he pealed the label from the half empty bottle 'that be the best fuck you ever. Opps! Sorry Michael, your vessel decided that he'd rather where his pine pajamas, again, rather than be your play toy. I think that means, you colossal heavenly Douche bag, that you can go screw yourself with a rusty metal fork.'

Dean finished the bottle. He eyes watered but he didn't wipe them. He was a Winchester and he knew how to handle a little pain.

He stood, his knees slightly liquid after consuming so much alcohol to quickly, but his steps where sure. He opened the door to the hotel room and stepped outside. The night was brisk but he didn't feel cold, his skin felt like it was burning up. The motel was pretty much empty… hell the town was pretty much empty, but Dean didn't complain he didn't need an audience for what he wanted to say.

His arms came up from his sides until they where straight out, parallel to his shoulders.

His voice caught the first time he tried to talk, he cleared his throat and tried again.

Looking at the moon, hung low over the forest behind the motel, Dean called out.

"This is your master plan. Huh? This is your big fucking plan? Have me kill my brother? That's your idea of compassion. What happened to loving people… what happened to wanting us to be happy? This is what you want for us…Well, screw you! I'm going to live for me, screw Michael. I'm gonna' steal candy from babies, I'm gonna' swear in churches, I'm gonna' kick puppies; I'm going to urinate on gravestones… You know why? Because you're an asshole. You're douche of major proportions. You're a fucking… I don't know… but I hate you. I hate you for getting Sam's hopes up… for making him believe that you're some merciful God. I hate you for tossing Cas out… he made the mistake of what... helping us… what the fuck is that all about? I hate you for letting Bobby end up in a wheel chair… I hate you for killing my mom. I hate you for every cut, every gun shot, every bruise… EVERYTHING!"

Dean was out of breath. He felt his eyes burning, this time not from the alcohol. He felt all of his anger leave him and his voice dropped an octave.

"You know… I believed for one moment that you were real. I believed that you wouldn't let this happen. I can see that was a waste of time. You're not real…"

Dean was quiet for a moment. He felt empty and tired. In a daze he walked back to the room, stepped inside and closed the door sealing himself in the warm alcohol scented room and passed out on the stained couch in the corner.

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	2. Chapter 2

Hey all!

_**Please let me know what you think and message me if anyone would be willing to or knows a good BETA. Thanks!**_

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It was Castiel's voice that woke Dean from sleep and it was Castiel that Dean was going to kill. As soon as his head stopped throbbing and he could open his eyes without feeling like vomiting.

"Cas," His tongue felt thick and his mouth felt like the swamp thing was living in it, "if you don't shut up. I am going to rip your wings off and beat you into a sniveling pile of angel goo."

"Oh… I think somebody wants… oh what was it… oh yeah… a greasy pork sandwich served up a in a dirty ashtray." Sam's voice was loud, which was enough, but last nights greasy dinner food was ready to come back with a vengeance. Dean swallowed sharply.

"Oh looking a little green, Dean. Ready to worship the porcelain God? Come on… Dean. If you're not feeling well I guess I'll just have to eat this food I got all by myself." Sam's voice stabbed at Dean's brain… like something pointy… he just could think of what because right at that moment the smell of chorizo, fried eggs, and bacon reached his nose and Dean was running for the bathroom.

'Yup… life sucks,' Dean thought to himself as he vomited and wretched over the semi-clean toilet bowl, 'I can't even vomit in a clean toilet… if that isn't a sad commentary on the truth…'

Finally the heaving stopped and Dean felt well enough to wobble over to the sink. After a few false starts he made it and rinsed his mouth out. Cold water across his face made him feel almost human…almost.

Dean glanced at the mirror, not his best look he decided. His hair, which needed to be cut, was sticking up at an odd angle on one side of his head, he had bags under his eyes big enough to take on vacation, and heck if there wasn't a pattern from the coach in red lines on half of his face. Still, it could be worse… he could be Michael… so he'd take what he could get.

Whipping his face with a slightly gray towel as he went, Dean rejoined the group.

"What's going on Cas? You were Mr. Unconscious last night… now your wide awake and screaming like a teenage girl at a Jonas Brothers concert?"

Castiel looked perplexed by the pop culture reference… but that was nothing new so Dean didn't comment.

"I was startled awake when I rolled over on this." He held out his hand. Dangling from it was Dean's necklace.

"What about it Cas? It's my necklace." Dean didn't understand the significance…

"I was startled because it fell out of my pocket and when I rolled on it… it did this." Castiel opened the hand the necklace was hanging from, in the center of his palm… a large burn with a shocking resemblance to his necklace stared back at him.

"It burned you." Dean was at a loss. He knew what it meant if the necklace got hot… but it was just so… unexpected.

"Yes. That mean's that God was here. We were in the presence of God and we didn't know it…" Castiel started to say more but a knock on the door interrupted him.

No one moved. The knock came again… this time more forceful.

Finally Sam moved to open the door.

"Yes?" Sam didn't know the young man on the other side… but Cas grew stiff.

"Sam Winchester." The man smiled then glanced around the room. His eyes fell on Dean.

"Dean Winchester. Good you're both here."

"What's going on? How do you know who we are?" Sam's voice was quiet but forceful. His eyes darted around the parking lot trying to see if anyone else was watching this interaction. Dean's muscles were tight, ready to strike if this guy made any suspicious moves.

"I know a lot more about you than just your names, but there will be time for that later. This is for you." He held out a plane white envelope with Sam and Dean's names written across it. "Pastor Jim asked me to find you and give you this, right before he died. It's taken me a long time to find you. Longer than I thought it would… but…anyway. He wanted you to have this, he said it was something that you would need." Sam's fingers trembled as he took the envelope. Dean stepped up next to Sam. His eyes fell on the bold script on the front. He remembered that handwriting, Pastor Jim always hand wrote his sermon's. He'd spend days revising them, looking over them, reading them… Dean had always been fascinated and he'd spend hours in the church looking at those pages as if they were sacred documents.

"Who are you?" His voice was rough. Silence answered his question. He glanced up… but the man was gone. Sam seemed as stunned by the disappearance as he was. He glanced around for Cas… only to find him gone as well. Sam, who was blinking like a teenage girl wearing fake eyelashes for the first time, closed the door. The hand that held the letter was trembling.

Sam ripped open the letter and read it before handing it to Dean. His face was pale and he moved to sit in the bed with his head in his hands as Dean started to read.

_Boys,_

_I have spent the last few days thinking about whether or not I should right this letter. I know that you need to know… but I made a promise a long time ago to a good friend. Your father asked me not to tell you this but I can't lie to you any more. _

_ Sam, you and I have talked about faith before. I know that you believe…but you have to understand that sometimes faith can take us places that we are not ready to go… it can expose darkness and weaknesses in us that we didn't want to see._

_ Dean, you have to protect your brother at all cost. I know that you don't believe that you are worthy of God's love and I will never understand that… but I know that he will not fail you if you place your trust in him._

_ I'm sure none of this makes any sense now… but hopefully it will when I explain. _

_Boys, the first thing you need to know is: Angels are real. They aren't little chubby babies in white robes they are fierce warriors of God. _

_ The second thing that you need to know is: each angel has a chosen vessel that is meant to hold their spirit and power when they come to earth._

_ The last thing that you need to know, and this is so hard for me to write, is: Sam is destined to be the devil's vessel and Dean, you, are destined to be heaven's weapon to destroy the Devil._

_ I'm sure that you don't understand and probably think this old man had lost his mind…but I can tell you that it is truth, I swear by the word of God._

_ An angel of the Lord appeared unto me and gave me a sight of the future. I know that I am not in it. I know that you will face these things alone… so I have set things up to help you._

_ The angel told me that there is a kind of "charm" that will keep the devil from being able to posses Sam's body. It is your mother's wedding ring. She wasn't buried with it. Your father wore it on a chain around his neck. _

_ At least he did… until I told him all of this and we agreed that it needed to be hidden somewhere safe. So the information about it's location was placed in a locked box and given to Bobby Singer. He doesn't know what's inside and he doesn't know what's to come…_

_ The key to the box is under the floor boards of your old room in my house. _

_Be strong boys, Remember that you are not alone. We are all with you. Remember that Angels are watching over you._

_-Pastor Jim Murphy_

Dean felt all the air leave his lungs. He felt his head grow light and for a moment he considered that he might, for the first time in his life, faint.

He moved over to the coach and sat down. He was breathing fast but his lungs could seem to deliver the air to his body. He felt like he was suffocating.

He looked up to see how Sam was fairing…

Tears poured out of Sam's eyes, some of grief and some of relief…

Dean didn't know what to say…

He didn't know what to think… expect that there was a lot of road between here a Blue Earth… and they needed to get going.

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Please review!

oh and extra points to the person who remembers where the "greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray" is from...


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